The C and the Lamb: A Collection of Drabbles
by Hollywoodx4
Summary: "There is no longer comfort in the purple hoodie, only longing. It's doesn't smell like him, doesn't feel like him. It isn't him. The single piece of clothing that had once embodied him had been soaked into her own mix..." Chord/Dianna
1. Fireworks

**More Overgron! This is just a place to collect all of the little ficlets and drabbles I've written for them. It won't be updated on any sort of schedule, just when the ideas come. **

**Fireworks:**

The show ended sooner than they had all thought, and after a flurry of flying costume pieces filling the dressing rooms and normal clothes being thrown back on, they met outside the arena, hugging and talking and re-living all that was their tour experience. As they waited for the bus they shared crazy fan encounters, technical goofs, and wardrobe malfunctions some hadn't even noticed. From the middle of the group a loud, masculine voice made everyone look up at the sky, which had been illuminated with fireworks. The hand the voice belonged to shot up to the sky to prove his point, and his friends gasped, heads craned to the sky in wonder.

To the side of a group, a tiny blonde sat in the grass, head turned toward the sky, short blonde hair falling in her face. Her companion, a well-built man with similar hair, pushed the loose strands away from her face and sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame and craning his neck toward the sky, keeping his head close to hers so that their faces touched. Her cheek reddened from the contact, but she leaned into him, letting herself enjoy their last night on tour.

"It's like they're for you." He turned his head lazily, not wanting to break contact with her.

"What?"

"The fireworks. It's like they set them up for you, for your last day." She smiled and he mirrored her, squeezing her tighter against him. He moved so he was whispering directly in her ear.

"It's not my last day with you guys, you know. I'll be trolling the set in no time. Can't stay away from my bromance." She giggled and then fake pouted.

"What about me?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious. I could never stay away from you long." They leaned in and shared a kiss under the fireworks, completely and blissfully unaware of the cameras being run by their friends.


	2. Enchanted

**Enchanted**

She walked onto set early that morning, one of the first to arrive. Although her body was tired and aching just thinking about the events of the next few months, her mind was racing and filled with anticipation. Today was the first day coming back to her home away from home, the Glee set. Dianna was more than excited to see her 'extended family,' whom she jokingly says she hasn't seen in a very long time (although they all went out to dinner three nights prior to the day).

She meshes right into her schedule, heading on a familiar path to hair and makeup, happy to see her first outfit isn't too extreme. She's wearing a New York t-shirt and a pair of jeans, her hair allowed to flow naturally. She's never been more excited that they aren't doing Gaga. In her outfit for the day she's more awake than she was before, and struts from wardrobe rather than sulking.

She's so happy she almost doesn't see the tall blonde standing by one of the trailers before it's too late. Backing up, she laughs and apologizes for almost running into him. Dianna's about to go on her way again when the man pauses, his face lighting up in recognition.

"You don't recognize me then, huh?" She turns and gives him a once over, her eyes widening in shock. For once, Ryan, Brad, and Ian listened.

"You're Chord, right? From the audition?" He laughs and shakes his hair so it is no longer in his eyes while Dianna's heart flips involuntarily.

"Well that's a relief, I thought you'd forgotten me already."

"No, not with your audition. Did they…"

"Hire me? Yeah, you're looking at the new Sam Evans." She hugs him and she doesn't really know why, she only knows that he's pretty strong, and he smells really good. Their moment is interrupted by Brad, who, upon seeing them, decides he's going to introduce them. On his way over he sees them hugging, and jokes as he finally reaches them.

"I'm guessing you've already met our newest addition." Brad gestures at them and she giggles lightly out of embarrassment, shades of scarlet creeping onto her face. Chord smiled at this and straightened up a bit, copying his boss's joking tone.

"Yeah, she remembered me from the audition."

"She'd better, she was the one who practically begged us to hire you." Chord turned to her, eyes wide and long mouth upturned in a smile.

"Oh, really?"

"Definitely, it was all we heard-"

"Bye Brad!" She tugged on Chord's arm and pulled him away, embarrassed. When they were finally far away enough and she turned to look at him again, his face still bore his crooked little smile.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." He crossed in front of her to stand at her other side, grabbing hold of her arm along the way. "I would like to hear about how you begged Ryan, Ian, and Brad to give me the job, though."

"Oh, shut up!" She smacks his arm and he laughs, their playful banter coming easily as they walk across the lot. Somewhere in the middle of their conversation he lightly wraps his arm around her waist and for once she doesn't protest. She feels safe with him, and for some reason Dianna can just tell that the tall, muscular blonde who does all of the impressions would never hurt her. She smiles and continues their banter, grateful that she finally spoke up to the head writers about something with their coming through. Yes, she could get used to this.


	3. Impromptu Performance

**Impromptu Performance**

Two in the morning found the Glee cast tired and a bit disheveled, groping for coffee and energy drinks as if their lives depended on it. It was their break, and most of them were just laying around, trying to catch a bit of rest before they were called back to continue their group number. They had been there all day, much to everyone's dismay, and they were more than happy to have a bit of time off while the set was being fixed. Dianna went to craft services immediately for some coffee. She had been feeling the weight of her tired eyelids increasing as the night wore on, and it was now her self-assigned mission to stay awake. Coffee in one hand, she scanned the room for somewhere to sit. She heard the murmuring of weary, worn out voices all around her, and then the sound of a guitar peaked her interest. Following the sound she was drawn to a corner in the far end of the room, where a well built blonde was bent over a guitar, earbuds stuck in his ears. She was going to leave him to whatever he was doing until she heard him humming, immediately recognizing the song. Dianna sat next to him quietly, not wanting him to stop singing upon noticing her. She listened intently, drawn to the soft tone of his voice. Subconsciously she began to hum along with him, her careful harmonies floating around his in a perfect match.

Somewhere in the middle of the song he noticed her presence, lifting his head and smiling at her before continuing the song. He loved her harmonic, soulful crooning, and the fact that she knew all of the words and harmonies to the song made him fall even harder for her than he already was. As he drew the song to a close they locked eyes and she laughed, picking up his iPod from its resting place beside him.

"Going through your Disney playlist again?" She teased. Dianna knew the extent of Chord's love for Disney music now, and she almost always knew what she'd be in for when they shared headphones between scenes. "Channeling your internal five year old?"

"What can I say, the songs make me happy. You seemed to know all of the words, though."

"I went on this huge Little Mermaid kick for a while when I was younger. I watched it so many times I used to be able to recite it. My mom always used to make fun of me, but she was my favorite princess." Her eyes lit up as she passed a very familiar song and she pressed play, placing his iPod back on the ground. The starting notes of the song sounded and he smiled, rolling his eyes at her. He plucked the iPod from the ground now, pressing pause. She frowned at this and it only made him smile more, loving the little game he was about to play with her.

"Put the song back on!"

"I don't know, Di. I don't think I'm in the mood for that song." She huffed then, crossing her arms in mock anger and turning away from him, hoping it would change his mind. Chord didn't budge then, pretending to look for another song to play. She turned toward him, deciding she would take another approach. She attached herself to his arm, having to maneuver behind the neck of his guitar to get a good grip. He looked down at her and smiled, shaking his head. She was pouting and batting her eyelashes at him like a five year old who wanted a toy in the toy store.

"Please?" He laughed, pressing play on the iPod again. She squeaked and kissed his cheek, preparing to sing along. Alice in Wonderland was her favorite and he knew that. He just wanted that kiss.

They continued their marathon, not noticing they had a listener until Lea grabbed Chord's iPod and began to flick through songs. She found one she remembered from watching the movie, a real remake of Cinderella that she had loved seeing. When the first notes of the next song started, Chord took the earbud from his ear and got up from his seat, reaching his hand out to Dianna so she would get up too. She took his hand even though she was confused, relinquishing the earbud that had been in her ear.

"If we're going to do this song, we've gotta perform." She giggled and he took a few steps away from her, taking the first verse of the song as Prince Charming. He got into the role and took her hand, pulling her into him and swaying with her in a makeshift waltz.

"Ten minutes ago, I met you. And we murmured our 'how do you do's." She sang her part delicately, taking on the role of Cinderella. She was poised and on her toes, dancing with him as if he had been her partner her whole life. Something about the way they danced just clicked, much like their personalities had the first day they met. When the instrumental part of the song came along they just laughed, making up cheesy moves to the violins. He spun her and then dipped her, holding onto her delicately so that she wouldn't fall. By then she was full on laughing, stepping out of character to goof around with him. As they held out the last note of the song Lea clapped, and Dianna was broken from the trance he had set her in. They bowed dramatically and resumed the position they had been in before dancing, Chord handing her the earbud back eagerly, wanting to sing more with her.

Dianna was charmed, more so than she had been before. She didn't know it was possible for a guy to like Disney and know all of the words to the songs like he did, let alone admit it to anyone. She was attracted to his honesty and his heart, and now she knew that he was her Prince Charming.


	4. Pick Up Lines

**Pick Up Lines**

Ryan had called her in for the final table read in the early days of August. It was a sweltering hot day in Los Angeles as usual, and she groaned as she stepped into the early morning from her air conditioned apartment. It was only seven and yet the barely risen sun had already caused the humidity currently drifting through the air. She took a dramatic breath in, sticking her tongue out in a state of mock choking. If there was one thing she could change about California, the humidity would definitely be on the top of her list.

She pulled into the lot after going through heavy traffic, with nothing else to do in her car but crank the radio and sing along. She had been going through an Adele kick, and the CD had almost permanently housed itself in her car. It was perfect for congested traffic, mostly because she loved people giving her strange looks when they saw her jamming out in the car. Mostly, that just fueled her more, and by the time she actually got to the lot she was singing and flipping her hair to Rolling in the Deep, upset she'd have to leave during one of her favorites. Nevertheless, she parked and got out of her car, being greeted by some familiar faces.

He was nervous. He wouldn't admit it to his agent, but his agent could definitely tell. He was playing with his hands in his lap, eyes focused intently out the window. Every so often he would check his phone to find no new messages, and when he got bored with that he started to play Bedazzled. The simple game took his mid off of his destination, and soon enough he felt the car come to his stop, his manager's voice signaling that it was time to get out of the car. He breathed deep once, unbuckling his seat belt and then checking his reflection in the mirror. When he was satisfied they were led down a long hall by a professional looking woman in a power suit, and this only intimidated him more. Sure, he had been in many an audition before, but the process still scared him.

The room was mainly made up of a long, white table, which was surrounded by large black office chairs. Some people were already there, but as he sat in his designated seat he noticed that one was missing. He was given a folder containing his lines and then told that they had to wait a little bit, so the people at the table began to start small talk with him. This only tugged at his nerves even more, but soon enough he was opening up, letting cool comments flow easily from his mind. Finally, when he had gotten the people at the table laughing, the door opened again and he heard a female voice drop a hasty apology, taking the seat next to him and giving him a quick hello.

The first thing he noticed was her hair. He had done research before his audition, only knowing a little about the show, and had only seen pictures of her with long hair. He knew she played Quinn, who would supposedly be his love interest, so he understood why she was sitting next to him. Ryan motioned to them and Chord turned away from her, realizing with embarrassment that he had been staring. He began the scene, trying to get into the character that he knew so little about. For the most part, though, it was easy. He played off of what Dianna was doing with her character, getting caught up in the scene. She was a marvelous actress, he realized. When they finished they got a little round of applause and he looked over at her, smiling. The crowd at the table were going to take a small break before the next reader came in, so he took it as a window of opportunity. He followed her from the room, stopping her before she went too far.

"Hey, excuse me you dropped something…" She turned and let out a little noise, bending to the ground with him to search for it. "…My jaw." He got back up and brushed his pants off, holding out his hand for her to shake. She giggled and took it, immediately charmed by the hint of an accent his voice carried. "Chord."

"Dianna. Nice to meet you." His eyes popped out at her first, a sort of hazel color with flecks of blue. His hair was long-ish and matched the color of hers, playfully shaggy toward the bottom. He was wearing a t-shirt, and through it she could see that he definitely worked out judging by the size of his biceps. She tried not to let her eyes trail too long, looking back up at his face and hoping he hadn't noticed. "You did good in there, and judging by the laughter I came in to they seem to like you. It can be hard to get anything out of them, trust me." His confidence boosted with her compliment, and he thanked her.

"You were pretty good yourself. Amazing, actually. How long have you been performing?" She blushed and looked down, trying to keep her smile smaller than it wanted to be.

"Pretty much since I could walk." She laughs a little at this, fondly remembering her parents saying the same thing. "It was mostly dancing before, but then I got into acting and it stuck."

"Oh, so you're a dancer too?" She nodded and so did he, and then the crowd began to head back into the room, readying themselves for the next reader. "Well, I hope I'll have the opportunity to see you dance sometime. It was a pleasure meeting you, Dianna." He shook her hand one last time and she watched him walk back down the hall, passing the woman in the power suit who had brought him to the room. She sat back down in her seat, flushed from the spark she felt at their contact. She would have to remember to put a good word in about him to Ryan. She definitely didn't want that to be the last time she saw him.


	5. Negotiation

**Negotiation**

"…So?" He smirked at the impatient quality of her voice. As soon as he picked up, that was the first word he heard.

"What, I don't even get a hello?" He was playfully chiding her and she sighed, sitting down on the sofa in her friend's New York apartment before continuing, sweetness dripping from her slowed voice. She was the one who was teasing him now, dragging out every syllable.

"Hello, Chord."

"Thank you."

"So what's going to happen?"

"With what?" He had been skirting around the question carefully all day, admittedly. He still didn't know what to do with himself. He had all these options laying out in front of him like a map, and he simply had to press a destination and off he would go. His problem was choosing where he wanted to be.

"That little thing called your contract? You know,the decision that will make you either stay here or possibly go far away?" He smiled then, catching the hint of impatience in her voice.

"I don't know yet. I guess I'm still sort of mulling through my options, deciding which one will be best in the long run."

"Just-hang on." He heard her footsteps quick along the floor as she stopped to ask Lea for paper and a pen. He figured she got it because before long she had settled, her breathing becoming regular again. "Make a list."

"What?"

"Make a list of each job and then its pros and cons." She rolled the black ball-point pen between her fingers, waiting for him to start. She had four columns going down for jobs and then two across; one for pros and one for cons. "Let's start with the obvious; Glee. Pros." She bit her lip then, unsure of what he was going to say. In all honesty, she was secretly hoping that maybe she would be one of the reasons he would stay, but she shut that thought away quickly. They were friends, that was all.

"Okay, well there's definitely security. If they try to fire me I can always be an ass and point to that petition thing." They laughed together at this remembering the chaos that unraveled around him over nothing more than a misconception. It touched him, though, that people cared much about his character. "Then there's the fact that I love it. No matter how hectic it is I can't stay away."

"Like a crazy addiction to no sleep and sore muscles after breaks?" She joked, running her hand through her hair and scribbling on the pad of paper absent-mindedly.

"So anything else, crazy?"

"Well, there's you." Her breath caught in her throat, and she searched her brain for a way to react. Not too blatant but not so subtle that he couldn't tell that she was happy by this notion.

"Oh, really? And what about me makes you want to stay so badly, Mr. Overstreet?" He swallowed and took a deep breath, calming his rising nerves. Normally, their playful banter came easily, comments bouncing from one to the other at higher than average speeds. That's one of the reasons they fit so well together.

"Well, there's the fact that I get to see your lovely face every day, and that always cheers me up. It's like…my caffeine I guess." She giggled and it was his turn to run his hand through his hair now, her laugh encouraging him to continue. "There's your laugh, too. And the fact that you're just so dainty and sometimes I'm just afraid I'm going to break you, but you always just smile that amazing smile of yours, the one that lights up the whole room, and I get sidetracked again. You're beautiful. I've thought that since day one, but I was nervous. I had read up on all of you and I knew you had a bad breakup and I didn't want to hurt you or more too fast because you deserve better than that. Well, you deserve better than anyone could ever give you but I was kind of hoping I would be a viable option." He wanted to smack himself, letting his thoughts come out without thinking anything through first. He had done that so often around her, though, because with her he didn't feel like he had to be anything he wasn't.

"You're more than that." She was quiet now, nerves now floating through her and settling in. "I just…you were right about the bad breakup. It's been a while since I've really trusted anyone, you know."

"I'm willing to take that risk."

"Are you…asking me out?" Chord grinned. This was his window. If he had ever seen an opening before, this was definitely it.

"Well," He said, letting a more dapper voice come from his lungs, causing her to giggle once more, "I would have to do that in a more sophisticated way then wouldn't I?"

"I guess you would, if you want me to accept." She let herself slip into his game, her voice becoming light, an air of self-centeredness sprinkled through it.

"Well then, Miss Agron, would you do me the absolute honor of letting me take you out on a date when I come back from Tennessee?"

"I would be honored" A rosy hue colored Dianna's face now, and she noticed a figure from the corner of her eye. The short brunette stood in the doorway, a hundred-watt smile lighting up her face. Lea gave her a thumbs up and Dianna laughed, throwing the nearest object toward the other girl, which happened to be a red couch pillow. On the other side of the line, Chord sat alone in his bedroom, listening to the chaos on the other end of the line. He replayed her answer over in his head again and a small, shy smile crept onto his face. He looked down to try and suppress it, but decided against it as he heard Dianna laugh on the other side of the line. To him, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.


	6. Glum

**Glum**

The sun wasn't shining when she got up Saturday morning, the obnoxious beeping of her alarm bleeding through the pillow she had thrown over her head in frustration. On the days that had come before, she had shamelessly slept until the sun began to drip through her curtains, her alarm happily shut off and not at all disturbing. Most of the days she'd spent doing errands and spending time with the friends she hadn't seen since her last vacation, her nights catching up on movies and television shows. Occasionally she'd have an event or interview sprinkled in, but there was nothing constant. She wasn't up and at work before the sun or coming home early the next morning. She didn't know what would be going on most days, and for her it was a small blessing that'd ended far too soon.

By the time Dianna pulled into Lea's driveway, the sun was just barely poking from the horizon. Glad to see she wasn't the first one there, she parked her car toward the front of the lot and made her way in, yawning as she realized she still hadn't gotten enough sleep to hold her over. As she entered the familiar building she was greeted with a few bright and smiling faces, much too happy for this time of day. Granted Dianna was excited for the night's events, but she couldn't help but feel as though something was missing.

She noticed it fully when the first pitying look was sent her way. At first she thought it was because she still had bags under her eyes, Starbucks cup in hand, but when she said she was fine the other person just shook their head.

"No, not that. It just must be hard for you, with Chord not here and all. I mean, it's hard for all of us but he was closest to you." Her best friend's words hit a soft spot and she looked down at her lap, not really sure how to respond. Sensing her sudden discomfort, Lea walked quietly over to Dianna's chair, resting her head against the blondes in an effort to comfort the clearly distraught actress. "…We'll all tell you how bad we feel, but none of us even know what you went through."

"It's a long story…" She glances around her and realizes their conversation is private, the other girls from their cast centered on a more lighthearted topic. "It's more than one thing, especially from my side. I have no idea what our story looks like from his, or even if there is one. I just feel like we never had enough time." Lea's head tilted to one side in question, perfectly plucked eyebrows quirked along with it. "I don't know, maybe if we had more time something would have happened."

"Something can still happen, you know. It's not over unless you want it to be." Lea then picked up an emptied plate, carrying it back to the kitchen while Dianna let her words ring through her head, giving her a new point of view on a case she thought had been closed.

That night was the premiere of their concert movie, and the moment Dianna stepped out of her car she was immediately re-introduced to one of her favorite celebrity perks; the fans. She let a large, bashful smile make its way onto her face and waved over to them before moving over to the carpet. The first few interviews were a breeze and she automatically attributed that fact to her mind. Although she'd admit often how much she hated that it was constantly going, it saved her in instances like this, where she always had to be on her toes, always aware of everything around her while answering the same questions over and over again in slightly different ways. There was one interview, though, that threw her off completely.

She had been making her rounds for a while at that point, saying hello to her friends and looking around at all of the people that had shown up when she saw him. She didn't even think he'd be allowed to come but there he was, Mark wrapping him in a hug and looking on in blissful surprise. Meanwhile, there she was, her gaze focused on Chord in admiration, but only for a minute. The next interviewer cleared her throat and began to talk to her, asking her some basic questions before taking a turn nobody else had.

"How do you feel about-I know the fans were so upset about Chord not coming back for the new season. You guys were so great together, was that especially hard to know that you're not going to be able to share scenes with him anymore?" Upon hearing his name her face fell, but only for a minute. She flickered back to her usual, collected self with talent she'd picked up from acting so long. It hurt, and she knew it'd still hurt, but she couldn't help but think of Lea's words. Scanning the crowd once more she picked him up easily, something about his presence drawing her immediately to him. Head held high with a new sense of courage, she kept his image in her mind as she spoke.

"This isn't the last for me and Chordy," I don't want it to be. We deserve time. "I love him. He's right over there, he looks so handsome." Talking about him made her flustered, and she was more than happy when her questioner changed the subject, worried she'd embarrass herself even more than she already had. Before she moved on to the next interview she managed to catch his eye and smiled, giving him a little wave. When he noticed her he laughed and winked, green eyes sparkling above the flashbulbs that were going off between them. We deserve a chance.


	7. Fanatics

The small restaurant was quaint, with light, jazzy music providing background to the murmuring of its patrons. Some were older, sitting on the porch of building watching cars roll by, while others were younger, squirming in their seats and coloring on paper menus while their parents tried to settle them down. This table was full of people who were in their teens, shoved in the back of the restaurant at a booth in the corner.

There were three couples at the table, each distinctly different from the other. The first, two boys, were holding hands under the table. The first boy, with curly black hair, talked with two others about football, mimicking his best touchdown dance while the other two laughed along, following suit. His boyfriend, a smaller, skinnier boy talked with the two girls at the table about their latest plans to visit New York, and what they would do differently this time. Altogether they were talking over each other, reaching to grab hold of the breadsticks or get a napkin after a spill. It was a new organized chaos, and it was bliss.

For one couple it was a feeling of renewal, of being brought together again. It felt regular, good. Along with that came a sense of newness, of starting all over again although they had picked up where they had left off. Even after their rocky past, Rachel and Finn sat at that table like nothing had happened; as if they had never broken up, and everything was alright again, because it was. There was no need to worry about what would come next, there was only that moment. There was no past-that wasn't important anymore. They had decided that whatever happened would be put behind them, a clean slate making a fresh start for themselves, and everyone else involved in their old drama.

Another couple had the impression of regularity. This was where they frequented, where so much had been talked about. This was where coffee Tuesdays had turned into dates, where Kurt's hatred of Valentine's day had been swept off of his feet in the same fashion he himself had been. In their case this was special, a place where everyone on the staff knew them, and they didn't have to worry about being stared at for who they were dating. It was safe, it was fun, it was regular.

The last couple was just stepping out of their awkward stage. Now that everyone had found out that they were dating, it was no longer a matter of hiding things. But hiding was what they were used to, so hiding is what they had tried to do. But with the other couple's coaxing, they had both just begun to come out of their shells, Mercedes laughed nervously and rested her head on Sam's shoulder. It was only a few seconds, but it seemed like a barrier had been broken, and all was right and exciting. Everything was an adventure with them, young love being something they had only heard about, or thought they had experienced before. But when Sam kissed her on her front porch at the end of the night they both realized that this was them, and these amazing feelings were new.


	8. Letters

**Letters:**

She reads their old letters when she's feeling down. Something about the ink, the paper-even the old decorated shoebox she keeps them in- makes a warm, fuzzy feeling grow inside of her. It's been ages since she's allowed it to stay. It's like steaming hot chocolate slithering down her throat on a bitter day, or a glass of cool water after a long workout. She tries to recreate it, but it is impossible. After all of these months, her love remains with the same pair of hazel eyes behind the thoughtfully scrawled letters.

She sits cross-legged on the floor of her apartment, papers neatly arranged around her. The oversized purple hoodie she's hidden herself in is a sign of defeat; she's gone back to the letters. She always goes back to the letters. When she returns from another bad date she begins to feel a yearning for them: the feel of barely wrinkled paper between her fingers as her eyes hungrily scan each line for something new, something more. The thing she's learned about the letters is that they often leave her disappointed.

There is no longer comfort in the purple hoodie, only longing. It's doesn't smell like him, doesn't feel like him. It isn't him. The single piece of clothing that had once embodied him had been soaked into her own mix, until she began to question why she wore it any more. But as she pulls it over her small frame, fingers connecting with the metal of its zipper, she feels safe, she feels home, and she shakes all questions from her head as she searches for the box again.

She doesn't know why she's so upset about it. She has no right, she knows it and so would everyone else if she would talk to them. They were never a together, not even an it. He was simply someone she watched from afar. Rather, often up close, when they sang what she shyly considered their song, flirting with each other across the stage shamelessly. When that is done, she is left with pictures and videos, and a heart that never truly got to speak. The worst type of heartbreak is the kind that is invisible, where the other person is completely unaware of the damage they've created. It stings the most when you weren't part of an it, only left to imagine the opportunities; the would have, could have, should have. It's the ice cream and sappy movies type of heartbreak, and for the first time she's facing it alone, too ashamed to admit the loss of love that had never even been there for the other person.

They're mostly little quips, the letters. She can tell which ones are from the beginning because his words are long and many, some taking up pages of stories she's surely memorized by now. As they progress they become a single word, triggering a memory or joke that never ceases to make her laugh again. Sometimes he draws pictures, others he hastily scrawls song lyrics before passing it to her before going to sit on the bus or go on stage. These are the ones that fill her up the most because they remind her of how close they had been before their drift; before he stopped writing, before she came into the picture. Those are the letters that fill her up with that same warm feeling that never stays long enough for her to be completely satisfied. Like the waves in a storm, they lift her up to a glorious high before making her crash, sending hurtful signals to her whole body until she feels like she'd going to sink again.

It's a familiar feeling, sorting through the box. She knows where everything is and how it'll be, and it's almost a comfort to her. He's constant in the letters, one of the only stable things in her ever-turning life. He always uses a blue pen, his name always the most carefully drawn thing on the page. This time, though, she feels the crash coming early. This can't be healthy. She pulls the lid from the bottom of the box, where it'd remained since she and Chord had decorated it months ago. It was time to be done with wishing that things could be different. It was time to move on. As she moves to close the lid on the letters, something falls gently to her lap. She shoves the box aside and picks it up, unfolding the white piece of paper with care. It's completely wrinkle free and she wonders which note it is. This one, though, is not written in blue ink. It's neater than most of them, mainly because of the lack of words on it. As she scans it, she realizes she hasn't read it, although it dates back months prior to the day. It dates back to a few days before he stopped writing, a few days before he chose _her._

_I wanted you to know that I love you. I have loved you for a long time. And I know this isn't the best way to do it, but I don't have that much courage yet. If I'm being completely honest in this letter, I'll let you know that I would've said it much sooner if I wasn't so afraid of being rejected because you mean the world to me. I'm sorry if this comes on too strong or you just want to be friends, I just really felt like I had to tell you before it was too late._


	9. Doorway

**Doorway**

They were filming late that night, trying in vain to squeeze as much as they could into an already strenuous work day. Dianna watched from her chair in half-interest as Chris and Darren filmed their scene for the third time, switching it up a bit to accommodate themselves. Ryan and Brad, as always, were loving the scene, hamming it up for all it was worth. They danced around each other in the courtyard, laughing as they plunged fearlessly into the second chorus of the song. Dianna was needed, but not at that moment, so it was her job to hang around while they filmed a different scene. Some of her other cast mates had decided to linger a bit longer but most had gone to their trailers, mostly likely trying to catch a quick nap. Although Dianna desperately needed some sleep, she knew they would probably have trouble waking her up when she was needed. Instead, she sat with one leg crossed over the other, phone in her lap as she watched the boys work.

The phone buzzed in her lap and she looked down curiously, wondering who could be texting her at this time of night. The only people who texted her apart from her family were her friends, and they were all here. She looked around but nobody else was on their phone except Mark, who was talking on it. The name of the contact brought an immediate reaction out of her and she groaned, internally punishing herself. He always managed to get a reaction from her, even if he didn't know it himself. She felt the familiar flock of butterflies begin to dance around in her stomach and she rolled her eyes in disbelief. The way the mere mention of his name caused her to stir made her frustrated. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be a happy, independent single, especially since she'd had such bum luck with both Alex and Sebastian. But try as she might, she couldn't help but depend on the little things he texted her. The little things he did, even. But then again he had a girlfriend, and Dianna had to pretend she was happy, watching her interact with his family the way she'd wanted to from the day she met him.

Blocking out the many thoughts that were flying through her mind at the time, she glanced down at her phone again to see that the message was still unread, his nickname covering the lock screen of her phone, an older picture of them she hadn't had the heart to change.

"We need to talk. I'm on my way over now." It was very straightforward, periods and all. Confused, she typed a reply quickly before looking back up at Chris and Darren.

"I'm still on set, what's up?"

"Tell you when I get there. It's urgent." The tone she picked up from his texts was different, clearly unlike the casual banter they usually carried. It almost worried her but she shook it off, figuring it was nothing. She didn't think he'd actually show up.

There he was, in all of his disheveled urgency, standing in the doorway of the courtyard set. His eyes nervously scanned the crowd of his past coworkers until he found her, sitting to the side of the scene in her chair, watching with a tired expression on her face. Her legs were curled under her body, one hand propping up her head as she yawned and checked her phone again. He wanted to call her name, but disrupting the scene wasn't something he wanted to risk-especially since he wasn't really supposed to be here anyway. He texted her and she finally looked up, breath catching in her throat. He was here, standing less than ten feet from her, staring as she looked up. He caught her eye and waved her over. She complied, looking between the people who'd noticed his presence with just the same amount of curiosity they were throwing at her. Not really knowing what to do she simply waved at him in greeting and his face fell. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. He was ready, though, and determined. Something inside of him perked upon seeing her face again-really seeing her-and as he looked her over he shook his inhibitions away and pulled on her hand, leading her to a bench away from the rest of the workers.

He sat her down and cleared his throat in a final attempt to rid himself of his nerves, placing his hands gently on his lap.

"Emma and I broke up." Dianna didn't know what to say so she took his hand, covering the look of immediate happiness that had befallen her with one of compassion. She forced her thoughts to go to him and only him, knowing that she'd probably have to be there to comfort his broken heart. Crossing ulterior motives from her list would be hard, but she was his friend, and she was willing to forget every other feeling she had to help him out.

"I'm so sorry…"

"I'm not." He was looking right into her eyes now and she had to look away, chills making their way across her body.

"You broke up with her?"

"It was mutual, I guess. I don't really know how it happened, it just sort of…did, you know? I guess I just realized that my heart was with someone else." He squeezed her hand then and she dared a quick glance up at him, realizing that his eyes were still glued to her. She didn't respond, though, not wanting to take something mistakenly as a sign when it was just a misunderstanding.

"Who's the lucky girl?" For a minute he just looked at her, dumbfounded. Here he was returning to tell her about his breakup, the only person he'd even thought of when it'd happened, and she still didn't get it.

Chord Overstreet had never really been good with words, only in song where a melody and nice rhythm could accompany him. In the place of words he could no longer find, he brought his hand to her cheek and gently pulled her closer to him, their eyes shutting as their lips connected for their first real kiss. As they pulled away she wore an irreplaceable grin, looking at him as she blushed furiously, laughing to herself. He looked at her for the first time in a new light, their feelings laid out on the table before them, and let his hand linger in her hair, chuckling.

"You look good in pink."


	10. Demos

**Demos**

She had absolutely no desire to unpack her suitcase, so it remained untouched until she could no longer stand seeing it in the middle of her clean apartment. When she got home at night, she'd always have to pass where she'd left it in the front hall. Even walking by it reminded her of her visit to Tennessee, and she was grateful of the memories that washed over her, practically pouring from the zipped black suit case. Soon enough, though, it had become too much. The placement wasn't the best, and she'd tripped over it more than once, almost landing face first on the hard wooden floors of her apartment.

It was late the night she'd decided that she'd have to empty it, and she fought away the sleep that was trying to consume her before sitting cross-legged next to it. After unzipping it, she began to throw the clothes it contained in every direction behind her, hoping they ended up in some sort of organized manner so they'd be easier to wash. She hadn't realized just how many clothes she'd brought, pulling out items she hadn't even worn when she was there and looking them over curiously. When she hit the bottom of the suitcase she didn't even bother turning around, afraid of the mess that was probably spread all over the floor around her, and would be until she had time to do laundry.

The side pockets were easier, most things she could just leave in there for next time; extra toothbrush, extra hairbrush, and extra set of makeup. As she dug down deeper, she hit something completely unfamiliar. It looked like a cassette tape, but was larger and could open and close. She pulled it from the bag and held it, turning it over in her hands. She thought one of Chord's sisters may have left it there by mistake, but upon further investigation she realized that her name was on it. She recognized the lettering immediately, curvy and yet a bit messy, written in thin Sharpie marker. Smiling to herself she opened it, and something fell down into her lap. The case contained a note and two CDs, and as she got up to find her player she opened the letter.

_Dianna,_

_The day I was off at meetings and you were with my sisters all day, I'll admit that meetings weren't the only things I was doing. While you guys were out, I decided to record some of the songs I'd written. I'm not sure if they'll be on the first album I make, (if I end up making an album, that is) but I wanted you to be the first to hear them. Most of that week writing music kept me awake, and I realized that it's because most of the songs I've written are about you. The first CD is just a mix-tape, and I know it's completely cliché and incredibly corny, but it's filled with the songs that remind me of you. The second is the recordings I did while you were visiting us, of all of the songs I wrote about you. Some of them are sort of rough and not really figured out yet, but I just wanted you to have them. I miss having you here already, and I can't wait until I'm back in L.A with you. I hope you like them._

_Love,_

_Chord_

_(And knowing you, you probably won't even open your suitcase for a few days, but I hope this puts a smile on your face anyway._)

She grinned and internally sighed, wondering how she ever got so lucky. Glancing at the clock she realized it would be too late to call him, so instead she popped the second CD in and laid on her bed, letting his voice fill her apartment as she yawned and finally let her eyes close, finding comfort in his voice.


End file.
